Heart Melter (16 page)

Ian released her and began to pace like a lion, every muscle in his body twitching for action. "Now that they've tracked you here, you must leave first thing tomorrow morning."

"I know," she replied, miserable at having to leave so soon. “My good friend, Teddy, is in Paris. I’ll go there."

“You’re not leaving alone.” Ian clasped her shoulders and stared into her eyes with a look that said
you’re mine and no one is going to harm you
. It warmed her heart and gave her hope. "I know the perfect place where you can hide out safely," he said.

"Where?" Natasha asked, touched by his protectiveness.

"The Isle of Skye. It’s far from here and you have to cross over by ferry. There are some very desolate areas, but I know it like the back of my hand."

"I can't drag you into this mess any further, Ian. You'd be risking your life for me."

Ian stared at her, his silver-green eyes hot and unblinking. "I won't have it any other way.”

"But what about Arthur? He's only just arrived. We can't abandon him so soon," Natasha fretted.  

"He'll be fine. Maggie and Ranald can take him on holiday. He'll be well taken care of. They helped raise me and look how well I turned out," he said with a wry smile.

"Ha, quite the humble Highlander,” she said, smiling slightly.

"We need to get you to a safe place. I'll be damned if anyone's going to hurt you," he said, pulling her into a hug. Resting his chin against her forehead, he held her firmly and she could hear his strong heartbeat beneath her cheek.

Dugie entered the room and cleared her throat. "Dinner is served," she announced and left discreetly.

Natasha pulled away from Ian and followed him into the dining room. They ate in silence, immersed in thought. When they finished, she followed him upstairs as he carried a tray of food for Arthur. She turned on the light and searched for him, but couldn’t find him in the large room.

“Arthur,” she called out. “Where are you?”

A tremulous voice answered, “I’m here. Under the bed.”

Exchanging a surprised look with Ian, Natasha got down on her hands and knees and peered under the bed. “So this is where you were hiding,” she said in a light voice. “What are you doing under there?”

“I was scared,” Arthur admitted sheepishly, clutching the teddy bear.

Natasha pulled his skinny body out and hugged him. “Why didn't you call us or come downstairs?"

"I couldn't see anything but monsters," Arthur confided in a whisper.

Natasha's tipped his little face up and saw his eyes were swollen from crying. "Oh, sweetie, there are no monsters here. If you're ever scared just call and we’ll come to you. Everyone here is kind."

"I wanted to call you, but no sound came out when I tried," Arthur replied.

She hugged him again. “I know exactly how you felt. When I was little, I used to be scared of a lot of things, but you know what helped me?”

“What?”

“I would sing a song.” She smiled. "Let's get you back in bed so you can eat the yummy dinner we brought you."

Ian set the tray down on the nightstand beside the mahogany, four-poster bed. "Are you all right now?" he asked, helping Arthur into bed.

Arthur nodded. He sniffled and looked around. "Can I keep a light on while I sleep? I don’t like the dark."

"Of course," Ian said readily. He handed Arthur a tissue from a box on the nightstand. “Here, blow your nose and dry your eyes.”

Natasha silently berated herself for not realizing that Arthur would wake up to an unfamiliar, dark room that might seem spooky. He looked adorable, perched in the center of the four poster bed like a little prince. She smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I understand how you feel about not liking the dark, Arthur. I don't like thunderstorms myself. But I know you’re going to love it here.  Glenhaven is a safe and happy place. In fact, it's a lot like Camelot."

Arthur's blue eyes shined like midnight stars. "It is?"

Ian's eyes crinkled at the corners as he regarded Arthur. "Glenhaven isn't Camelot, but it will be your home while you're here. And this will be your room. Do you like it?"

Arthur looked around him, wide-eyed with delight. "Oh, yes! It's grand. When can I see your sword collection?"

"Tomorrow morning," Ian said. “It’s in the great hall.  I’ll show you the banners with the crests of both sides of my family, the MacGregors and the Farquharsons."

“I can’t wait!” Arthur cried eagerly.

"Cook sent this up for you," Natasha said, reaching for the dinner tray. She fluffed the pillows behind Arthur and tucked a napkin under his chin. “Are you hungry?” she asked, handing him a fork.

Arthur nodded. “And thirsty,” he chirped, taking a large swig of milk. He tilted his head and gave her a milk-moustache grin.

Smiling at the cute picture he made, Natasha handed him a napkin. "Here, dry your whiskers."

Arthur wolfed down the meal of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and green peas. When he finished, Natasha checked inside his suitcase for his pajamas and toothbrush, and then handed them to Ian.

Ian placed his arm around Arthur's narrow shoulders and led him out the door. "Come, I'll show you to the bathroom," he said.

Natasha ran to her room and retrieved a tube of arnica cream for Arthur’s bruise. As a dancer, arnica was her constant companion for aches and bruises.

When they returned to the bedroom, Ian carefully rubbed the arnica on Arthur’s bruise. “There,” he said tucking him in. “That should help your leg feel better. Tomorrow morning I'll give you a grand tour of the grounds. My bedroom door will be open tonight so I can hear if you need anything."

Natasha sat beside Arthur on the bed. "You were a good boy to eat all your peas. Now you have to go to sleep.”

"Would you sing me a song?" Arthur asked.

“Sure, which one do you want me to sing?”

He thought for a moment and then grimaced. “I don’t know any songs,” he said softly. “That’s stupid, eh?”

“Stupid?” Natasha said, distressed that he didn’t know any songs. “Nah. Don’t say that again or I’ll tickle you. Like this,” she said, running he fingers up and down his sides until he squealed and wriggled away.

“Okay, okay,” he said, giggling. “What song are you going to sing for me?”

“I have the perfect one,” Natasha said, smiling at him tenderly. “Camelot.”

Ian leaned against the doorway and watched them together, fascinated by how effortlessly Natasha related to Arthur, and he to her. It was as if he’d known her forever. She got in bed and lay beside him and began to sing.

Gooseflesh formed on Ian’s forearms when he heard the first notes of Natasha’s clear soprano as she sang the moving lyrics. He stood rooted to the spot, hypnotized by the magic of her singing. Her face glowed and her blue eyes shimmered. The sheer emotion and radiance in her voice gripped Ian, bringing him back to the night he’d gone to see her on Broadway. The critics were calling it her breakout role and he was curious to see what the buzz was about. He also wanted to see firsthand why she would reject everything he’d offered her to live like a gypsy, going from show to show and city to city while performing and touring.

It had been three years since they had broken up, but he still hadn't been able to get her out of his mind…and heart. He had sat in the audience, center orchestra, his heart hammering when she stepped on stage. When she finished singing the first song, he’d felt sucker punched. She had owned that song, nailing it with so much heart, the audience clapped riotously. When she hit the final soaring note, he felt petty for expecting her to consider another lifestyle. He'd never realized how exceptionally talented she was. He’d been too caught up in his feelings for her, in wanting her all to himself. Witnessing her transform into the character she passionately portrayed had held him and the audience in thrall.

That night he left at intermission, more determined than ever to forget her.

It was difficult to watch Natasha and Arthur together now. She was warm and affectionate, her maternal instincts coaxing the lad out of his shyness with ease. In the short time she’d spent with Arthur, he’d evolved from being a forlorn
bairn
to a happy one.

Ian didn’t remember Tasha ever mentioning wanting to have children, but she was a natural. She would make a wonderful mother someday. She had once told him she was afraid she wouldn’t be a good mother because she’d never had a good role model. He couldn’t blame her for feeling that way with a mum like Anitra.

But it didn’t really matter. Natasha had never said she was interested in a conventional life. Her career came first, before anything else. She was a dazzling triple threat of song, dance and acting. It was a natural gift, just as his healing hands were a gift he couldn't imagine not using.

What a muddle they’d landed in, he thought, turning away with profound regret. 

The following morning, Natasha got out of bed with a start when she saw it was already 8:00 a.m. She had tossed and turned most of the night, getting up several times to check on Arthur, who had slept soundly with his teddy bear tucked in beside him. Every time she’d tiptoed past Ian’s bed, she’d been tempted to dive into his arms. But that wasn’t going to happen, especially after the way their last night had ended.

She showered and dressed quickly in skinny jeans, a faux fur collared chocolate brown sweater and the boots Ian had given her. When she went to check in on Arthur, she didn’t find him in the room and figured he must be with Ian.

On the way downstairs, she reflected on Ian's somber mood after they had put Arthur to bed. She had wanted to spend time with him in the study, but he wasn't in a talkative mood. Something had made him clam up after they left Arthur's room. With nothing more to do, she’d said good-night and retired to the lonesome hidden chamber.

Natasha yearned for the banter and the intimate closeness they’d shared the past two days. Ian had been warm and sexy, and they'd had fun together in Edinburgh. But their argument had left her feeling despondent. The worst part was that she’d been rendered speechless when he’d asked,
Are you ready to tell me anything has changed in seven years?
Reflecting on it, she couldn’t blame him for shutting down after she wasn’t able to answer a simple question. But it hadn’t been simple. Had anything changed in seven years?
Hell yes.
She had grown, matured, become more independent. And she’d been able to distance herself from Anitra’s constant meddling. But her love of singing hadn’t changed. It was ingrained in her.

With a sigh, she headed to the kitchen and found Maggie, Ian and Arthur seated at a table with Dugie standing nearby.

"Good morning, everyone. I can’t believe I slept in so late." Natasha walked to the table and kissed the top of Arthur's head.

“Morning, luv,” Maggie said. “Hungry?”

“A bit,” Natasha said, smiling at her.

One glance at Ian’s handsome, recently shaved face made Natasha want to plant a kiss on the cleft of his firm chin and burrow her face in his warm, masculine neck. He looked up at that moment, his silver-green eyes giving her a once over. Natasha's heartbeat sped up and she smiled at him.

"Good morning, Miss," Dugie called out cheerfully. She placed plate of fried eggs, ham and a broiled tomato before Arthur. "Eat up, laddie," she said, fussing affectionately.

Arthur's cheeks puffed up as he grinned at her impishly.

"Will ye be having a cooked breakfast, Miss?" Dugie asked.

"No, thank you," Natasha replied. "It looks delicious, but I'll just have corn flakes and milk."

Dugie clucked her teeth. "You're not dieting are you, lass?" She wiped her plump hands on a clean linen dish towel and filled a bowl with corn flakes. "You must eat hearty in the morning to be healthy."

"You’re right, but I haven't been exercising or dancing.” She gave a short laugh. “I have to fit into my costumes when I return to New York."

“They must be awfully small costumes,” Dugie said, shaking her head. She poured milk into the corn flakes and placed the bowl in front of Natasha.

Natasha kept silent. One of those “small” costumes was a short satin teddy she wore in her key dance number. Ian watched her beneath hooded lids. He hadn't said a word since she had entered and now his brooding gaze unnerved her. She swallowed hard and said, "How did you sleep last night?" 

"Well enough," he replied. "You?"

"The same," she said, not wanting to say that she hadn’t slept well at all.

“Where’s Evita?” Natasha asked Maggie.

“Ranald took her for a walk.”

“That’s nice. Has she behaved?”

“Perfectly. We’ve enjoyed having her, luv,” Maggie said.

“Oh good.” While Dugie fussed over her newest charge, Natasha ate her cereal. She enjoyed hearing Arthur and Ian talk about fishing in nearby lochs.

"Dr. Ian is going to show me the great hall this morning after we finish breakfast!" Arthur said, hopping up and down in his seat with excitement.

"I want to see it too," Natasha said, smiling at Arthur's puppy-like eagerness.

"Haven't you ever seen it?" Arthur asked, tilting his head at her.

"Yes, a long time ago," she said.

His face glowing with excitement, Arthur said, "Can we go now?"

"We can," Ian replied, rising from the table.

“Are you coming too, Auntie Maggie?” Arthur asked Maggie.

“No, lovey. I’m going to check on Evita and Ranald.” She turned to Ian. “Please bring wee Arthur to the stable when you’re finished.”

Ian nodded. “Will do.”  After she left, he led Arthur and Natasha into the great hall, which was unchanged from the last time she’d been there. Majestic and grand, the large rectangular-shaped room had a wood-beamed, high ceiling and colorful banners hanging from the side stone walls. An open stone fireplace, large enough to roast a whole side of beef, stood impressively on the far wall.

"This is the only room that was left exactly as it was when it was built hundreds of years ago. Clan Farquharson would gather here every night for entertainment and food," Ian said.